


Approach Vector

by misura



Category: Machineries of Empire Series - Yoon Ha Lee, Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Gen, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-27 14:13:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17768312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Admiral Naismith: Barrayaran ambassador.





	Approach Vector

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zdenka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zdenka/gifts).



"Formations?" Miles repeated, his mind galloping on: it had to have something to do with those troop movements that hadn't seemed to make any sense, except that they had, in fact, made sense, meaning Miles had been able to counter them by moving his own troops just so, or nudging a battle group just so, preventing the enemy's desired outcome.

Jedao shrugged. He seemed a bit sheepish, for a man who'd been dealt a crushing defeat.

True, it had only been on a simulator, but still. Miles would be willing to bet someone somewhere was going to be very upset at the outcome of this little game.

He could only hope Ivan hadn't won _too_ much money betting on him. Bad enough for Miles to have shown up the Hexarchate's most famous (or infamous) general; even worse if his cousin had managed to bankrupt one diplomat or another in the process.

"I expect your actions will give certain people a lot to think about," Jedao said. His smile was warm, almost friendly. Sympathetic, even.

Miles would have been willing to bet a considerable sum of money of his own that certain people in the Hexarchate would indeed be thinking about him after today. Good thing Admiral Naismith had been due a prolonged vacation anyway; that should keep the assassins off of his trail.

Unless, of course, they figured out that Barrayar had not, in fact, imported an eccentric Betan general to do a bit of sabre-rattling at the Hexarchate and its modest demands for cooperation.

"And you?" he dared. By all accounts, Jedao's role was strictly that of a flunkie. The Hexarchate ordered, and Jedao obeyed. No initiative, no rebellious streak to speak of. Absolute loyalty to whoever called the shots.

Jedao shrugged again. "If you people have invented formation instinct already, I see no reason why we can't work together."

Miles swallowed a squeak and managed an urbane nod, one experienced general to another. "Indeed," he said, once he trusted his voice again. _What the hell has given them the idea that we've invented anything like_ formation instinct _?_ Whatever that might be: Miles could guess, especially after seeing the way Jedao's troops had acted in battle, and the way they looked at him even now.

_The Naismith look._ Only, it would seem, _not_ the Naismith look. _Formation instinct. Huh._ It wasn't Jedao, then - or at least, not _just_ Jedao. It was something the Hexarchate had ... invented, apparently. A brainwashing technique, possibly. _And they use it on their own troops._ No surprise there, all things considered.

Jedao was watching him, Miles realized. He tried to smile, as if he was simply pleased to be here.

"Tell me about your calendar," Jedao said abruptly. "Please."

"Our calendar?" Miles felt mystified. "Uh." Was Jedao angling for an invitation for a return visit? "Well, we're celebrating Winterfair in a few months?" he offered. "That's always a big to-do."

Jedao gestured an invitation. Miles hesitated: he'd been instructed very firmly not to go haring off on his own, and to turn down any and all offers of food, drink or sex.

Strictly speaking, then, he would not be disobeying his instructions to accept Jedao's invitation for a private chat in Jedao's personal quarters: he would be haring off with Jedao, instead of alone, and Miles was fairly sure that Jedao hadn't been flirting with him, so Miles's virtue, such as it was, should be perfectly safe.

"When I say 'we', of course, I mean the Barrayarans," Miles added, a bit belatedly, wondering if Jedao had noticed the small slip. "It's quite cozy, though, really. There's nearly always snow, and people exchange gifts, and there's all sorts of delicious food and drink prepared for the occasion."

"That all sounds very pleasant, I'm sure," Jedao said.

Ivan made a 'what the hell do you think you're doing?' gesture as Jedao and Miles passed him by.

Miles returned a soothing 'relax, I know what I'm doing' gesture.

Ivan's response expressed considerable doubt.

Jedao looked amused, though there was something else in his expression as well, a tension that had slipped in there after he'd asked about the Barrayaran calendar.

Miles wondered if he was about to receive a request for political asylum. Illya would be overjoyed to get his hands on someone like Jedao, probably, though there remained the small problem of getting Jedao from here to Barrayar in one piece, and still breathing.

_Well. Let's not get ahead of ourselves._ For all he knew, Jedao simply collected stories about alien holiday celebrations as a hobby or something.


End file.
